All For One and All For Love
by Tanith2011
Summary: A sequel to "A Musketeer's Motto". Constance's reaction d'Artagnan's injury...


_**AN: Hi everyone! Firstly, thank you to all those who read my previous stories for this fandom. Secondly, I have a WIP, "Games of Love", that I'm yet to get back into and I'm still working out the direction I want to take with it. I do apologize for the unreasonable delay and hope to continue with "Games of Love" in the near future. Lastly, this story is a follow-up to "A Musketeers Motto" that I posted a little while ago. Thanks to some readers on Archive of Our Own, I was nudged into writing this. Hope you enjoy and thank you in advance for reading!**_

 _ **Tanith**_

Like a man doomed to walk to a hang-man's gallows, d'Artagnan sat in the wooden chair with his shoulders slumped and his face staring at the cracked surface of the table. He was grateful for once that his long hair formed a curtain covering the array of colours that shaded his cheeks, eyes and nose. _Damn. She's here!_ His heart leaped into his throat at the sound of Madam Bonacieux's foot steps down the hall which now stopped outside the office of Captain Treville's musketeer garrison. Even from behind closed doors, his keen nose picked up the faint scent of her perfume and he swallowed hard to settle his nerves. _What's to be so nervous about? She's just a woman! Tell her it was an accident. Be a man. You're a musketeer not a love-sick farm-boy_!

The door opened after a brief series of knocks which went unheard by the young Gascon.

Constance walked in tentatively at first, not wanting to disturb the musketeer, then a warm smile spread across her radiant face and she lengthened her strides straight into the arms of her true love.

D'Artagnan didn't even feel his legs carry him off the chair or how he automatically wrapped his arms around the woman that won his heart ever since that fateful day at the market place when he had literally fallen at her feet.

Constance slowly withdrew from the strong arms that had enveloped her in such a loving embrace then looked up to study the damage inflicted on d'Artagnan's face.

The concern that was etched on Madam Bonacieux's features made the Gascon's heart clench with guilt. "I'm so sorry." He took her gentle hands in his and brought them to his lips. "There was...there was a riot at the prison gates and I was struck down by ten men. I was very fortunate Athos, Porthos and Aramis arrived when they did."

"How awful!" Constance paused then with a slightly confusion expression she continued, "It's odd, I didn't hear anything about rioting."

Damn, woman, nothing escapes her notice! "Oh, well...it was quite sudden," d'Artagnan quickly recovered.

"Hmm, well I am thankful your rescuers reached you when they did. You could've been seriously hurt or worse!" Constance exclaimed then once she was satisfied the man before her was truly alright she drew a deep breath. Now it was her turn to reveal not so good news. "D'Artagnan, I came here to speak with you about the ball. I'm afraid I will not be able to attend with you."

D'Artagnan tried his best to hide the relief he felt that he was not the one who cancelled first. He leaned forward and gave Constance a kiss on her forehead. "I understand perfectly. It might be best I don't show my face there or else I may instil fear among the guests."

"No, you don't understand. I am to attend the ball with my husband. He has decided to post-pone his trip," Constance confessed. She felt d'Artagnan's disappointment through his hands as they loosened their hold but she gripped them tighter, stood on the tips of her toes and drew closer to him until their faces were inches apart then released her hold and reached up to hook her arms around his neck. With a coy smile she whispered, "But Monsieur Bonancieux will be away on urgent business matters for _a month_. He leaves day after tomorrow."

It took a moment or two for d'Artagnan to comprehend the implications behind Constance's words but when it dawned on him, his demeanor visibly changed and he allowed a crooked grin of his own. Then scooping her up in his arms, he kissed her tenderly until the sound of deliberate coughing broke the moment.

"My apologies, Madam Bonacieux," Captain Treville said from the doorway of his office.

"Oh, no, not at all, Captain, I was just leaving," Constance said, a blush colouring her cheeks as she stepped back from d'Artagnan.

As fate would have it, Aramis chose that exact moment to poke his head through the doorway. Removing his hat from atop his head, he formally greeted Constance then said apologetically, "I just wanted to say how truly sorry we all are for the unfortunate accident that has befallen d'Artagnan. I am aware that he was to accompany you to the ball and I am deeply sorry that he may not be able to attend. A horse's kick is nasty business and…" Aramis's voice faltered at the crestfallen and mortified look on d'Artagnan's face.

"A horse?" Constance repeated. "What horse?" The confusion brought her eyes back to d'Artagnan who was edging himself away from her. "I thought you said there was a riot?"

"Oh, I…er….there was and that's where the horse comes in. You see, when I was attacked, I fell to the ground and was kicked by this horse, but I'm okay, really," the Gascon quickly fabricated.

"Yes, that's right!" Aramis agreed quickly. "Now that's settled, I really must go. Can't keep those fresh cadets waiting," he gave a nervous laugh before he bid Constance a good day and disappeared.

"I must also go," Constance said regrettably then added, "You best get some rest after all you've been through. First Athos tells me you were hurt after saving an elderly woman from a group of bandits then you tell me you were caught up in a riot where Aramis says you were kicked by a horse."

D'Artagnan cast Treville a worried look, his eyes pleading for assistance, but the captain simply stood with his arms crossed in front of him and a bemused expression plastered on his face. "Yes, you've certainly had a busy day, I must say."

"I'm almost expecting Porthos to tell me he hit you by accident with a training sword next!" Constance added. She placed her hands on her hips and turned to face d'Artagnan who seemed to have lost all faculty to speak. "What's the matter?"

D'Artagnan cleared his throat and gave a nervous laugh. "N-nothing."

"Well, I don't consider that to be a laughing matter. Porthos is lucky he's not responsible for you getting hurt! You know, I'm getting rather good with a real sword these days," Constance said with a cheeky glint in her eye. "Anyhow, I must be off. I am supposed to be running errands."

D'Artagnan and Treville bade Constance a good day and listened to her footsteps receding down the hallway of the garrison. Once they were satisfied she was well out of earshot, Treville shook his head and said in an almost accusing tone, "You taught her how to use a sword? A _real_ sword?"

D'Artagnan shrugged his shoulders guiltily and winced. "Well…"

END


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